Last Vacation (1)
My single-attribute Sokseong Oh Haeng Kwon might have been hastily improvised, but its power was truly formidable. And it wasn't limited to just water-attribute strikes.
Fire!
I channeled the fire attribute I'd acquired through the Yeom Ho Ssang Jo forms—and what do you know? Whoosh! Instead of blue flames this time, blazing crimson fist auras enveloped both my fists. They were even stronger and more expansive than the Yeom Ho Ssang Jo itself, making this a clear upgrade.
"Whoa! Wowww!"
After pulling off water-attribute strikes followed by fire-attribute ones, my joy knew no bounds. Compared to all my other advantages, I'd always lacked straightforward offensive martial arts, but Sokseong Oh Haeng Kwon filled that gap perfectly.
Even without gathering all five attributes, this could easily become my signature attack art!
The reason such a powerful and exquisitely refined technique like Sokseong Oh Haeng Kwon had been forgotten? It required gathering all five attributes to activate—an absurd, unreasonable condition.
But now that I can use it one attribute at a time, how huge is this gain?
And if I ever did collect all five? My offensive power would skyrocket without a doubt.
"At that point, I could legitimately aim for one of the Ten Greatest Warriors Under Heaven."
My current status was just a lowly academy student who hadn't even properly debuted in the martial world, but my ambitions were grand. After all, with my present skills, I was already among the top late-stage experts across the righteous factions, evil sects, and even the demonic cult. Nothing scared me.
All that's left is to gloriously wrap up my time at Cheonmu Academy.
Once I did that, there'd be nothing left for me to regret here.
With over a month left until the final graduation exam and the ceremony for the graduates, Dan Ri-cheong issued an order to the Cheonmu Third Unit, since we had way more time than the other students.
"Spend the month traveling outside and enjoy your vacation."
Those short words carried deep meaning. We'd graduated from being mere students and were now on the cusp of becoming true martial artists debuting in the jianghu, so it was his way of telling us to see the wider world.
And so, the Cheonmu Third Unit—us three—finally reunited after so long.
"Where to?"
I asked my two comrades. As an orphan with nowhere to go except Cheonmu Academy, I planned to follow their lead.
Right then—
"Um... if it's okay, how about heading to the Fighting Sword Sect?"
To my surprise, the usually timid Meng Yuon raised his hand with a suggestion.
I turned to him in shock. Something must have happened at the Fighting Sword Sect for him to speak up like that.
"What's going on?"
I asked, worried, and sure enough—
"Letters from Master suddenly stopped coming."
Here's what had happened: The Fighting Sword Sect was a tiny faction even by Sichuan standards. After their master's sacrifice, Meng Yuon's senior brothers had pooled their meager resources to cover his Cheonmu Academy fees. They exchanged letters at least two or three times a month, but they'd gone silent since last month.
"No more pocket money or academy fees... Something must have gone wrong."
That explained why Meng Yuon's face had looked so off lately. The academy fees and allowance were waived thanks to our massive contributions, but the total radio silence was deeply worrying.
"Then we have to go to the Fighting Sword Sect, obviously."
"Yeah, we're still Cheonmu Third Unit comrades until graduation."
The decision was a no-brainer. We had plenty of time, Meng Yuon was in a tough spot, so we'd go help out.
Plus—
Clink!
I flaunted the overflowing gold pouch in my robes with a grin.
"I've got gold to spare anyway. Mind if we make a donation to the Fighting Sword Sect and crash there as guests for a few days?"
"No, no, that's fine."
Meng Yuon waved it off, but I wasn't having it.
"Think about it the other way. What if me and my family were in trouble? What would you do?"
"Help out, obviously."
"Exactly. Same here."
With that, he couldn't refuse anymore.
"I've never left Hebei or Henan, so a trip to Sichuan will be a great experience for me."
And so, the Cheonmu Third Unit's final vacation was set for Sichuan.
The Fighting Sword Sect, whose letters had abruptly stopped last month.
I don't know what happened, but I won't let anything bad happen to them.
The sect was like family and hometown to Meng Yuon, and he was a precious friend to me. We'd join forces to overcome whatever crisis they faced.
With the plan set, all that remained was to act. We set off for Sichuan at dawn.
The journey from Hebei to Sichuan was long and treacherous—normally it'd take over two months, not one.
But we were peak experts and above, so we poured all our energy into lightness skills and flew across the land.
"Huff... huff... sorry."
We pushed so hard that Meng Yuon apologized profusely from day one.
"No need to apologize."
"It's all experience."
We looked after our impatient comrade, hurrying to the Fighting Sword Sect as fast as possible. Knowing he was losing sleep over worries about the sect made it all the more urgent.
What fanned those flames even higher? Overheard talk from merchants at an inn.
They were clearly Sichuan natives by their accents, and they said—
"Hey, heard the news?"
"What news?"
"A bloodbath's brewing in Sichuan."
We were eating at the inn too, so we perked up at Sichuan talk—especially "bloodbath."
"Ah, you mean the Black Heaven Gang?"
"That rising evil sect in Sichuan?"
The name was unfamiliar to us non-Sichuanites, but the Black Heaven Gang turned out to be a big deal.
Sichuan was typically weak for evil sects, hemmed in by powerhouses like the Tang Clan, Qingcheng Sect, and Emei Sect—three of the Nine Great Sects and Five Great Families overlapping there.
"...But this guy squeezed through the cracks and founded an evil faction in Sichuan: Black Heaven Gang Leader, the Black Heaven Sword Ghost Du Jeong-cheong."
"Yeah. And get this—he's wiping out all the small sects, forcibly merging them to grow the gang to rival Tang Clan, Qingcheng, and Emei."
Meng Yuon dropped his chopsticks the moment the story ended. The Fighting Sword Sect was one of those tiny Sichuan factions, fitting the description perfectly.
"They've crushed most of the small fries now and are taking a breather before divvying up Sichuan's dominance."
The second the merchants finished, we bolted back on the road. It took over three weeks just to reach Sichuan—only possible because we were all elite experts.
"Please!"
Meng Yuon ran and ran, praying nonstop that the sect—family to him—had survived. If not for his demonic affliction treatment, he might've fallen to become a demonic cultivator himself.
After pushing that far—
Sichuan at last!
We finally neared Sichuan borders, then ran a full extra day to reach the Fighting Sword Sect.
Thanks to our sleepless, mad dash till dawn—
"That's it!"
Meng Yuon pointed to a rundown little sect. It was pathetically small and shabby, as he said. For a place this size to produce a Cheonmu Academy student was a miracle.
"No chimney, but smoke?"
Getting closer, we couldn't believe it—thick black smoke billowed from the Fighting Sword Sect grounds!
"Let's go!"
No time to rest after days without sleep; we charged straight in.
"There should be senior brothers guarding the gate..."
Meng Yuon grew anxious at the wide-open main gate in the predawn gloom, and sadly, he was spot on.
Flames definitely raged within the sect grounds. And worse—
"The plaque—the sect's face and symbol..."
Peng Jincheon gaped at the shattered Fighting Sword Sect plaque on the ground. A beautifully inscribed plaque was a sect's pride; its destruction signaled the end of the faction.
"No way! No..."
Seeing it in pieces broke Meng Yuon; he collapsed to his knees, mind shattered.
But only for a moment.
"Yuon! Pull yourself together now more than ever! People matter more than plaques."
I stayed calm, bolstering him as best I could.
Whoosh!
I gathered my potent inner energy and blasted a palm wind to clear the smoke, entering the inner grounds to reveal the devastation.
The thirty-plus senior brothers seemed halved; most lay collapsed with deep wounds.
"Are you okay?"
I checked them one by one, aiming to address the root issue.
Someone definitely set the fire.
In a cramped place like this, only one spot could ignite so easily: the kitchen stove.
Sure enough, there—
Roar!
Someone had doused paper in oil and lit it; flames roared high from the inferno.
A normal martial artist would've panicked, but not me.
Water!
Water-attribute arts shone here. I unleashed full-power fist auras from both hands, dousing the blaze. Without my superhuman inner energy reserves beyond the Entry to Divinity realm, it would've been impossible.
"Huff... huff!"
The fire out, I immediately directed Peng Jincheon and Meng Yuon.
"Start treatment now! Move survivors to clear air without smoke!"
Luckily, I wasn't just a top Entry to Divinity expert—I was also a skilled first-rate physician. Bringing me here was Meng Yuon's best decision a thousand times over.
"Ch-Cheon Myeong!"
Tears streamed down his face in gratitude.
"Too soon to get emotional! The attackers wrecked the place and set the fire not long ago. Quick first aid means we can save all the survivors."
With confident eyes, I tended from the sect leader—clearly Meng Yuon's master—to the youngest junior brother.
Thank heavens: the dead were just a few servants and retainers. The master and seniors all lived—a stroke of pure luck.